Mystery Mass
So, the pulmonary specialist wasn’t sure what it was, either.
I have a mystery mass in my right lung. Could be cancer. Could be four other things with really long names that all seem to be the result of a long-term infection. You know, like going three months without getting treatment for pneumonia. Could be my unborn, evil, twin trying to claw his way out to world domination. Could be an alien infestation waiting to take over the world. Hell, at this point, it could be almost anything.
So, tomorrow, Monday, I go in for a biopsy. And, yes, that’s damn fast.
In fact, the one thing that concerns me about this whole process is how fast the doctors have moved. Always rushing to do the next thing, which never seems like a good sign to me. In any case, I’ll be having an outpatient “proceedure” done tomorrow at 8:00am to get a biopsy of this little bastard. Though, I suppose something that is blocking the bottom half of your lung isn’t “little”. Well, whatever, they’re going to poke me tomorrow. I have a friend from church, who also happens to be an R.N., that’s going to drive me to and from the proceedure, though that may be a bit over-kill. They claim they’re going to use a local to get the sample and not put me under, but I feel better having someone there. Especially someone who knows the medical profession well.
It was nice, though, that I got several offers of help and could pick and choose. I really, honestly, never realized that I had so many friends who were so willing to help me with this stuff. All this time, I’ve been pissing and moaning about how alone I am, but I’m really not alone at all. Now, of course, the challenge is to relax and let them take care of me. At least, I know I’ll be in good hands tomorrow.
It’s really been an interesting week. Wednesday, I sat in the doctor’s office, waiting to find out what the next step in my treatment was and went through all five stages of death and dying, as laid out by Kubler-Ross.
“I’m too young to have cancer! I can’t die yet!”
“God, I’ll do anything I have to do to stay alive, just show me what it is!”
“Damn it! I should have come in sooner to deal with that damn cough! They might have caught it sooner!”
“Oh, think of all the things I’ll never get to do! Oh, I’ll never be married again or have kids or… God, it’s so sad that I never appreciated that when I had and now I’ll never get the chance!”
And, finally…
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to do what the doctors tell me and see how far I get. It’s out of my hands now. I just have to trust that God knows what he’s doing.”
And, there it is. It’s out of my hands now. All I can do is trust that everything is unfolding the way it was meant to unfold.
Though, I’ve been told that I have to last until August 11, since I’m apparently to be the best man in the most anticipated wedding of the year, J. and L. At least, I think he was serious when he said that tonight. Either way, I plan to live long enough for that, no matter what my evil, unborn, twin’s plans are.
Oh, and I’ve already been informed that it is immoral to use “Well, I’m dying of cancer and I’d really like to have sex one last time before I die and you’re just so beautiful…” as a pickup line, even if it does turn out to be true. Especially, if it turns out to be true.
I’ll let you all know more when I do.
